


October 7th, 2016

by IMAgentMI



Series: October Microfic-a-Day Project [7]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 04:05:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8235485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMAgentMI/pseuds/IMAgentMI
Summary: When York's eyes hurt, he retreats to his room and plays guitar in the dark.  
His friends gather next door to listen.





	

“Have I missed anything?”  
“No, he just started.”

Wash walked in, nodded to his teammates that had already gathered. He sat on North’s bed, and scooted as close as he could to the wall, being careful not to bump against it. The music that traveled faintly from York’s quarters began to grow in volume. North sat on the bed, handed Wash a glass of wine as the other Freelancers stilled to listen.

It was becoming easier to predict the days that they would be meeting here, covertly listening to the concert that York unwittingly provided. He played on the days when his head ached, when his jokes and laughter died away, and he used that brittle smile that he thought kept people from knowing he was in pain. Those were the days when his bad eye and his good became so strained that he retreated to his room to play classical guitar in the dark.

As he sipped his wine, Wash looked around the room, taking in his teammates’ reactions as they listened. Florida and CT sat next to each other on the floor. Florida’s eyes were unfocused, gazing through the wall ahead of him, lost in his own thoughts. CT had her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked at ease in a way Wash hadn’t seen in a long time, like the Connie he used to know, with her features relaxed, softened into a smile, and a quiet joy shone in her eyes. Carolina sat in a chair turned sideways against the wall. Her head was bowed, and she held her wineglass between her knees while she listened. Her eyes were tight and troubled - Wash had no doubt that she realized the significance of these frequent performances as well. Wyoming was attentive, gesturing with his wineglass occasionally, nodding with approval, sometimes commenting under his breath, giving the impression of an one sided conversation with the musician behind the wall. He broke out of his own little world to speak to his teammates only to identify the composer and the piece being played - Wash couldn’t remember if there had ever been one that Wyoming didn’t know.

He heard North sigh heavily next to him, and Wash folded his hands around his glass, closed his eyes and relaxed into the music. In the next room, unaware of his audience, York played on alone.


End file.
